


I've Got You (Under My Skin)

by lovelornwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Christmas, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 11:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15169676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelornwolf/pseuds/lovelornwolf
Summary: Determined not to sit at the kiddie table anymore, Derek makes the very adult decision to ask his straight roommate to play his fake boyfriend for Christmas. The same straight roommate Derek may or may not have been pining after for the past six months.





	I've Got You (Under My Skin)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been gnawing at me for weeks, and I am so glad to get it posted! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Derek didn’t know why he ever came home for Thanksgiving. It was all the indignity of a major family holiday without the redeeming qualities of Christmas. Plus he only got two days off school, which meant he had to drive all the way to Beacon Hills on Thursday and all the way back on Sunday. It hardly made sense.

Speaking of indignity…

Derek scowled. “Mom, I’m twenty-four years old. Why do I have to sit at the kiddie table?”

“Because you’re so good with the little ones, sweetie. They need someone to sit with them and keep them from running wild.”

“So instead of, say, their _parents_ actually _parenting_ them—”

“I thought you liked spending time with your nieces and nephews.”

“I spend tons of time with them! I just don’t see why I have to be the one—I mean, Cora’s only eighteen, and you aren’t making her sit with the kids.”

“Cora’s bringing Jake. I can hardly split them up.”

“Then put both of them at the kiddie table!”

“Derek. This is a request from your Alpha. Please do this favor for your family.”

“Fine,” Derek said. “But I want it clear that I am doing this _under protest_.”

Thanksgiving dinner was a disaster, at least as far as Derek was concerned. James made dinosaur noises the whole time, Madison just cried, and Harper decided to use her mashed potatoes and gravy as finger paints, with the tablecloth, her clothes and her hair as the canvas.

Derek did not get much to eat.

Christmas was going to be different, he vowed. But how?

 

* * *

 

When Derek got back on Sunday night, his roommate was already home, lounging on the couch playing video games in nothing but his boxers and a backwards baseball cap. Derek allowed himself a brief, discreet look, but that was all—he wasn’t a creeper. Plus his roommate was straight. And a jock.

Stiles turned his head. “Hey,” he said. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Ugh,” Derek said. “Yours?”

Stiles shrugged. “We spent it with the McCalls. Scott made the mashed potatoes, I made pie. It was great.” He eyed Derek over the back of the couch. “How could you not have a good time? Your family’s awesome.”

Derek stared at him. An idea was taking root. “My family likes you, right?” he asked. “I mean, you get along with them?”

“Sure,” Stiles said slowly. “Pretty well, I guess.”

“How open are you to spending your Christmas away from the McCalls?”

Stiles stared at him. “Are you inviting me to Christmas at your place?”

“Kind of?”

“Only kind of? How kind of?”

“I need someone to come to Christmas as my pretend boyfriend,” Derek said. “And I think you might be the perfect one.”

“Your boyfriend,” Stiles said flatly. “In what world would anyone believe that?”

Derek frowned. “So just because you play sports, you’re too good for me?”

“You’ve looked in a mirror recently, right?” Stiles gestured at Derek, and then at himself. “There is no way I’m hot enough to date you.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “My family would be over the moon no matter who I brought home.”

“That’s great. I’m glad that the bar is so low that even I can meet it.”

“That’s not what I—Stiles. You’re absolutely attractive enough to date me, whatever that means. My family knows and likes you. Will you please do this for me? It’ll just be for a few days. Well, okay. A few weeks. But only a week of that will be active!”

“And then what? We ‘break up’?”

“I guess. Sure.”

Stiles looked doubtful. “Are you the kind of guy who stays friends with his exes? Because I’ll be honest, if we were actually dating and then we broke up? I wouldn’t be able to stay friends. I wouldn’t even be able to be around you, at least for a little while.”

Derek frowned. “I’ve only ever dated two people. One of them died, and the other one turned out to be _literally a psycho murderer_ , so I have no idea if I’m the kind who stays friends.”

“Wait, when did you date these people?”

“I was a teenager. It was a long time ago. Never mind.”

“You haven’t dated anyone since you were a teenager? Aren’t you, like, twenty-six?”

“Twenty-four. And no. I haven’t dated anyone since then.” Derek looked at the floor. “That’s part of the reason I want to do this. It’ll hopefully get my family off my back.”

“Fine,” Stiles said. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”

 

* * *

 

Derek planned his attack carefully. He had to spring this on his mother just right or she would smell a rat. So he waited until their next weekly phone call before even bringing it up.

“Hey, Mom,” he said. “How’s the family?”

“We’re fine,” she said. “Is everything okay with you? You sound…strange.”

“Just peachy.” He groaned internally. Way to be low key, he berated himself.

“If you’re sure everything’s fine,” his mother said. “Are you ready for Christmas? Laura will be there this year.”

“Yeah, about that…” Derek said. “I was hoping I could bring someone along.”

His mother’s voice sharpened. “Who?”

“Just Stiles. Is that…not okay?”

She let out a sigh of relief. “No, Stiles is welcome, of course. Is he coming as a friend, or…”

“As my boyfriend.”

“And how long have you two been together?”

“Uh, not long.”

She paused as if waiting for Derek to elaborate, but he didn’t trust himself to. “Well,” she said finally, “Congratulations, sweetie. I was wondering how long it would take you two.”

“You were expecting this?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “More that I always thought the two of you would be good for each other.”

“Huh.” Derek wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“Make sure you prepare him. Spending a holiday with our family can be…eye-opening.”

“You can say that again,” Derek muttered. “I mean, I will.”

“When will you be down? And how long are you staying?”

“We can’t stay very long, unfortunately,” he said. “I have to get grades in for the courses I’m TAing, and then I need to get back and start preparing for next semester. So we’re coming down on December 23rd and leaving December 30th.”

His mother sighed. “Barely a week,” she said. “Okay. We’re looking forward to seeing both of you!”

 

* * *

 

“So there are some things about my family’s Christmas that you should probably know in advance.”

Stiles cocked his head. “Like what?”

“Fortunately you won’t have to participate in the tree-selection and decoration processes, since we’ll be getting there too late for that. But on Christmas Eve, we all gather in the living room and sing Christmas carols. Mandatory attendance. On Christmas Day, we have to eat breakfast first before we can open presents. The youngest kid—Madison, this year—hands out the gifts, and we all watch while everyone opens their presents one at a time.”

“But your family is _massive._ ”

“Yeah. It takes a while.” Derek clears his throat. “There’s one other thing.”

“Okay.”

“How are we doing gifts? I don’t want you to have to spring for presents when you’re just pretending to be my boyfriend, but—”

“Oh, I already got presents,” Stiles said.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I got something for your parents, something for Peter and his wife, and something for each of your brothers and sisters.”

“That’s—” Derek counted it up on his hands. “That’s _ten presents_. You have to let me pay you back.”

“No way. Even if I’m just pretending to be your boyfriend, your family isn’t pretending to invite me for Christmas. Oh, and of course I got you something, too.”

“Crap. I haven’t gotten you anything. What do you want?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “You’re one of _those_ people?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Just give me the link to your—”

“I knew it. You’re an Amazon wishlist kind of person.” Stiles shook his head. “Fine.”

“And update it first!” Derek said.

Derek thought about breaking the news to Stiles about werewolves, but it never seemed like the right time. Plus it wasn’t as if there was going to be a full moon during the Christmas break. And it wasn’t like Lupercalia or anything, when the family ran wild in the Preserve. It would be fine.

 

* * *

 

On the way down to Beacon Hills, Stiles turned to him and said, “So what is our backstory?”

“Our what?”

“Dude. I’ve met your family. They are going to ask us all _kinds_ of questions. What made us decide to start going out, what our first date was…”

Derek stared in horror. “…Shit.”

“It’s not a big deal. We just have to have answers ready for the obvious ones.”

“You don’t understand. My family is ludicrously difficult to lie to. Everything we say to them has to be perfectly accurate.”

Stiles made a face. “Then we’re hosed right from the get-go.”

“No, we just need to think of answers that are technically true.”

“So, what, you walked in the door after getting back from Thanksgiving and just…asked me out?”

“Technically true,” Derek said.

“Hmm,” Stiles said. “Well, what was our first date, then?”

“We’ve been hanging out at home, of course. We’re roommates—no need to go do something fancy when we can be together anytime we want.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “I want to register my strong dissatisfaction with this relationship. If we were dating, I would want to be _wooed_.”

“Noted. Just don’t tell my mom that.” Derek tried not to imagine actually wooing Stiles. That way only lay heartbreak. “Oh. One more thing,” Derek said. “We have to stay in character _at all times_. Even when we think we’re alone. We can’t let our guards down for a second.”

“Come on,” Stiles said. “You’re acting like your family is the Mafia or something. We’re not going undercover or anything.”

“Yes! Undercover! That’s the perfect way of thinking about it. Pretend we’re undercover cops infiltrating a terrorist cell or something, where the wrong person finding out could mean death.”

“Uh, okay, dude,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “If you say so.”

The whole family was waiting outside when they pulled up in the front of the house.

“That’s…is this normal?” Stiles asked Derek.

“No,” Derek said. “It’s just for you. I told you they like you.”

Derek’s mom held out her arms when they got out of the car, and Derek gave her a reluctant squeeze. “It’s so good to see you, sweetie,” she said. “You too, Stiles!” She held out her arms again, and Stiles went in for his own bone-crushing hug.

When Stiles had freed himself from the family’s clutches (literally), Derek thought it was time for a couple introductions.

“You know most of us,” Derek said. “But I don’t think you’ve met all the nieces and nephews.”

“Uh, no,” Stiles agreed.

“This is Madison,” Derek said. “She’s Laura and Brady’s daughter.”

“Hey Madison,” Stiles said.

Madison hid her face in Laura’s hair.

“This is Harper, Peter and Alexandra’s daughter.”

Harper held out a solemn hand for Stiles to shake.

“And this is James. He’s Laura and Brady’s older child.”

“Hey there, Jimbo,” Stiles said, holding up his hand for a high five. “Put ‘er there.”

“Sty-ohs!” James said, smacking his hand enthusiastically.

“That’s right, that’s me. I’m Stiles.”

“Shall we go inside?” Derek’s mother said. “Derek will show you your sleeping accommodations. Give you two a little time to wind down after the drive.” Her eyes twinkled, and Derek stifled a groan.

“What was that about?” Stiles said in an undertone as they went upstairs.

“She thinks she’s making room for romance,” Derek said. “But honestly, I’m too exhausted to romance you properly right now. Maybe tonight.”

Stiles laughed. “Fine. I see how it is. The spark is already gone.” He wrapped his arm around Derek’s waist. Derek felt himself stiffen. “Is this okay?” Stiles asked.

“Yup,” Derek said. “Of course, babe.” He ignored his suddenly racing heart and put his arm around Stiles’s shoulders. “Of course.”

Derek’s old room was at the top of the stairs. He threw open the door and waved a hand. “Here you go. Our accommodations for the next week and a half. I, uh. I apologize that it’s just a full-sized bed and not a queen or anything.”

Stiles swallowed. “We’ll manage,” he said. His voice sounded unsteady, and Derek winced, imagining what was going through his head. Stiles was straight, and couldn’t possibly be looking forward to spending ten nights pressed up against another man. Derek vowed to give him as much space as possible.

 

* * *

 

Dinner the first night was…fine. Stiles had apparently decided that they needed to be tactile in order to pull this off, so he had taken to putting his hand on Derek’s back or shoulder at random moments. Each time, Derek’s heart gave a lurch, and his family (the werewolves at least) had started giving him strange, concerned looks.

“So,” Peter said. “How’d you guys get together?” He had a glint in his eye that Derek had learned not to trust.

“It’s been coming on so long,” Stiles said. “Of course, I’ve had a crush on Derek for years.” Derek had no idea Stiles was this good of a liar—his heartbeat thumped serenely on during this ludicrous pronouncement, while Derek could feel his own going double-time. Stiles smiled and put his hand over Derek’s. “It was only very recently that I realized I had any chance with Derek at all.” There was a strange hiccup in Stiles’s heartrate now, and Peter’s eyes narrowed.

“It was after Thanksgiving,” Derek said hurriedly. “I walked in the front door after driving back and Stiles was on the couch and—and I asked him out.”

“Aww,” Laura said. “That’s so sweet.”

Derek’s mother was smiling as well.

Peter looked intrigued and, well, evil. “And how long had you been working up to asking him out?”

“When we were growing up, Stiles was Cora’s friend, not mine. But after we started living together…I definitely noticed him.” Stiles’s aversion to pants in the house had had something to do with that. Also his tendency to jerk off multiple times a day—and since he didn’t know Derek was a werewolf, he wasn’t as sneaky about it as he probably thought he was being. Derek looked at Stiles with a smile. “He grew on me, I guess.”

“Like a wart, or a tumor,” Peter said.

Stiles threw a dinner roll at him.

“Now, Stiles,” Derek’s mother said. “No throwing food, please. And Peter. Be nice.” She gave her brother a quelling look.

 

* * *

 

When they went to bed, they both stripped down to their underwear and then stared at each other across the bed.

“Well, good night,” Derek said finally, and lay down on the right side of the bed, curled into as small a space as possible.

“Good night,” Stiles said, and got in the other side. 

The next morning, Derek woke up in phases, realizing only gradually that he was completely wrapped around Stiles, his rock-hard morning wood pressed into Stiles’s hip.

“Uh,” Derek said, letting go and backpedaling off the bed. “Sorry.”

Stiles blinked at him sleepily. “It’s all fine, man,” he said. “No judgment.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Derek said. “No judgment.”

 

* * *

 

The morning of Christmas Eve, Derek and Stiles were eating breakfast at the bar in the kitchen with Cora.

“So how are things with Jake?” Derek asked.

“Just— _so_ good,” Cora said. “We’ve only been dating for six months, but it feels like we’ve been together forever.” She took a bite of pancake. “What about you guys?”

Stiles and Derek exchanged a look.

“It’s early days yet,” Derek said. “But it’s good.”

Stiles took Derek’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s better than I imagined,” he said.

Cora smiled. “Yeah, but you guys were pining for each other for so long before that, it’s almost like you’ve been dating forever, too.”

Derek laughed. “Things are definitely different now that we’re together,” he said. “There was no holding hands and cuddling on the couch before.”

“Yeah, I could definitely get used to that,” Stiles said. He coughed and took his hand back. “So your nieces and nephews are adorable,” he said, sounding flustered. “James talked my ear off about dinosaurs for, like, an hour last night.”

Cora snorted. “Sure, he’s adorable _now_ ,” she said. “But wait till you see him during his time of the month. He’s an absolute monster then.”

Derek tried to make a _cut it out_ gesture, but she didn’t see.

Stiles looked at her quizzically, a bite of pancake halfway to his mouth. “His ‘time of the month’? Cora, he’s four. And a boy.”

Cora stared at him, nonplussed, and then looked at Derek. “You haven’t told him?”

“No!” Derek said. “Shut up!”

“Told me what?” Stiles said.

“It was _your_ responsibility,” Cora said. “He’s here at Christmas, he can’t not know.” Her eyes widened. “You’re _dating_. How can you not have told him?”

“Hey. Guys. Told me what?” Stiles sounded distinctly annoyed.

“Uh,” Derek said. “I think we need to talk. In private.”

 

* * *

 

“When you said we needed to talk in private, I assumed we’d go to your bedroom,” Stiles said, panting slightly. “Seriously, how are you walking so fast? It’s been, like, an _hour_ , and this is like a forty-five degree slope.”

Derek turned around. They were standing in the middle of a barren field on the other side of the Preserve from the house. “You’re right,” he said. “This is probably far enough.”

“Far enough for what??”

“To be sure no one can listen in,” Derek said.

“Okay, again, why not just the bedroom?”

When Derek was nervous, he always found himself playing with his hands—twisting his fingers, wringing his palms against each other, cracking his knuckles. Now he was clutching his hands together so hard it felt like they would break.

“Because my family would hear us if we just went to my bedroom,” he said.

Stiles stared at him, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Is the room bugged or something?”

“No, they just have exceptionally good hearing.”

“I…see,” Stiles said.

“They also have exceptionally good senses of smell,” Derek said.

“What, all of them?”

“No. Just the ones that aren’t—” Derek sighed. “Just the ones that aren’t human.”

“Wait. Your family isn’t _human_.”

“Grandma is. Dad is. Uh. Brady is. Alexandra is. I think that’s it.”

“And the ones that aren’t human are…what exactly?”

Derek closed his eyes against Stiles’s incredulous look. “They—we—are werewolves.”

Stiles barked a laugh. “‘Time of the month’! I get it now.”

“Yeah,” Derek muttered. “Real hilarious.”

“But Derek—” Stiles said. “Werewolves aren’t real.”

“It works out best if people think we aren’t real. But certain people—people who have been accepted by the pack, or who are, uh, are _dating_ members of the pack, are let in on the secret.” And then Derek changed, his vision warping and his face stretching as he transformed. He held up his hands, each finger tipped with a wicked claw.

“Holy god,” Stiles said.

Derek changed back. “So.”

“Uh.”

“Your roommate is a werewolf.” Derek made jazz hands. “Ta-dah?”

“My _boyfriend_ is a werewolf. My boyfriend’s _family_ are werewolves!” Stiles sank to the ground. “What even is my life.”

“Are you okay?” Derek said. “I—well, this is the reason I don’t date.”

Stiles looked up. “You said you dated two people as a teenager, and one of them died.”

“Yeah. It’s a long story. She got bitten, and it killed her.”

“A werewolf bite?” Stiles said. “So it’s true that you can…turn people?”

“Only an Alpha. Like my mom, or the asshole who bit Paige.”

“What about the other person you dated? You said she was psycho. Is that, like, _literally_ psycho?”

Derek sighed. “I thought we were in love. I thought it was forever. So I told her about us, and she tried to kill us.”

“Derek,” Stiles said. He sounded gutted. “That’s…I’m so sorry.” He stood up and gently wrapped his arms around Derek. “Here I am having my own little crisis, not even thinking how terrifying this must be for you.”

“Hey,” Derek said. “Your reaction is totally reasonable! I mean, _werewolves_ , right?”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah. Freakin’ werewolves.”

When they got back, the family was waiting for them in the living room.

“Stiles, honey,” Derek’s mother said. “Cora told us that you…well, that you didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “Derek’s just been explaining everything.”

Derek’s mother turned a stern eye on her son. “I told you to prepare him. What did you think I meant?”

“I didn’t think it would be a big deal!” Derek said. “I wasn’t ready.”

His mother shook her head. “Stiles isn’t Kate, Derek.”

“I know. But this is a big thing to spring on anyone.”

“Well,” Stiles said, taking Derek’s hand and interlacing their fingers, “I’m glad I know. It might take a me a little while to get used to the idea, though.”

That evening, during the Christmas carol sing-along, Stiles sat very close to Derek and hugged him tight, as if to say, _I’m not going anywhere._ Derek wished with all his heart that it was real, even though he knew it wasn’t. In just a few days this would be all over and they would go back to just being roommates again.

 

* * *

 

On Christmas morning, everyone was woken up by the excited shrieks of the three youngest children, urging their parents out of bed. Derek and Stiles stumbled downstairs in their pajamas, and Derek made coffee. The microwave display read **6:12AM**.

“Ugh,” said Stiles. “I take it back. Your nieces and nephews are evil.”

It took them about two hours to unwrap Christmas presents. Miranda tried to open the first ten gifts she was supposed to hand out, but she eventually caught on.

Stiles had gotten Derek a wallet—“You needed a replacement,” was all he said when Derek thanked him. On impulse, Derek leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Stiles’s heartbeat went wild, and Derek pulled back, realized he had pushed things too far.

When Stiles opened his gift from Derek, he froze. “The collected _Sandman_?” he said disbelievingly. “That’s—oh my god, thank you!” He threw his arms around Derek’s neck. “Thank you.”

Everyone lent a hand when it was time to make dinner. Derek’s father reigned over the chaos in the kitchen with calm, steady hand. Derek and Stiles were given the potatoes to boil and mash, with a bunch of parsley, a head of garlic and three sticks of butter to incorporate.

Christmas dinner went much better than Thanksgiving. Derek’s mother had relegated Peter to the kiddie table this time, so there weren’t even any invasive, snide questions to deflect.

Stiles piled his plate high with duck and mashed potatoes, slopping gravy over everything and then tucking in. He moaned at the first bite. “Oh my god, Mr. Hale,” he said. “This is _amazing_.”

Derek’s father flushed at the praise. “Don’t thank me. It was all of you guys pitching in that made it turn out so well. I basically just supervised.”

“Dad,” Laura said. “It’s delicious. And none of us would have known what to do without your ‘supervision,’ so just accept the compliment.”

 

* * *

 

The next few days flew by, until it was December 29th. Stiles and Derek were heading back the next day, so they spent the evening packing their stuff into the car. It seemed like the entire back seat was taken up by presents.

Stiles was quiet on the way back from Beacon Hills.

“You okay?” Derek asked him at one point.

“Yeah, just thinking,” Stiles said.

“Is it the werewolf thing?”

“Uh, partly. Yeah.”

“Oh.” Derek cleared his throat. “Sorry about not telling you earlier.”

Stiles looked surprised. “I don’t blame you for trying to keep it a secret,” he said. “Especially after what happened the last time you opened up.”

When they were done unpacking the car, Derek cleared his throat.

“So how do you want to do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“You know. Break up.”

Stiles sighed. “I don’t know, man. Do we actually have to stage a breakup? Can’t we just agree that it’s over and be done with it?”

“I mean, how do we let people know?”

“I—” Stiles cleared his throat. “I’ll leave telling your family to you. The only person I told was Scott, and I can tell him we’ve broken up.”

Derek did not tell his family right away. He didn’t want to make it real.

 

* * *

 

A couple days later, Derek got home from the library to find boxes strewn around the loft, and Stiles and Scott busily packing.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Scott glared at Derek. “How can you even ask that?”

Stiles put his hand on Scott’s arm. “It’s okay, Scotty,” he said. “Can you take this box out to the car? I need to talk with Derek.”

When Scott was gone, Stiles said, “I told you this would happen.“

“You never told me you were going to move out!”

“I told you I couldn’t just stay friends.”

“Are you trying to lend verisimilitude to our relationship by faking a big breakup?”

“I’m not trying to lend anything to anything. I just can’t live with you anymore. I’m sure we can be friends eventually, but with me it usually takes...multiple years.”

“Stiles!”

“I warned you at the beginning, Derek. And now I need you to give me my space, and leave me alone.”

 

* * *

 

“Stiles moved out,” Derek said.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry!” His mother sounded much more upset than he had anticipated. “What happened?”

“Nothing!”

“ _Derek._ ”

“I swear! I just came home and he was putting his stuff in boxes.”

His mother was silent for a moment. “Do you want him back?”

“Well, I want him to move back in with me. I can’t afford this rent on my own.”

“Derek. Be serious.”

He sighed. “Yes. I want him back.”

“Then I’m going to tell you a secret. A secret that you should have figured out years ago, but you never seemed to.”

“What?”

“That boy is _crazy_ about you. No matter what you did, I have full confidence that you can win him back.”

Derek hung his head. “He’s really not. He’s—” He gritted his teeth. “He’s actually straight.”

His mother laughed. “I don’t know where you got that idea, sweetie. He has been in love with you since he was about six years old. Don’t you remember him telling everyone who would listen that he was going to marry you?”

“Uh. No.”

“Derek. I guarantee you he wants you back just as much as you do. Maybe more.”

“Okay.”

“Go get him.”

 

* * *

 

“Scott,” Derek said.

“What do you want.”

“I need to talk to Stiles, and he’s not answering my calls.”

“You need to leave him alone,” Scott said. “You broke his heart.”

“I know. It was a huge misunderstanding, and if I can just make him see that—”

“He won’t even tell me what you did, so it must have been major,” Scott said. “There’s no way.”

“Scott. I didn’t cheat on him or anything. We just…we weren’t on the same page. I let him go, and I shouldn’t have. Please help me.”

Scott was quiet for a moment. “This goes against my better judgment, but okay.”

“Yes!”

“But Derek? If you hurt him again, _ever_ again, I’m going to gut you like a perch.”

 

* * *

 

Derek showed up at Scott and Allison’s house with flowers and chocolates.

“He’s in the guest bedroom,” Allison said.

Derek knocked on the door at the end of the hall.

“Go away,” Stiles said in a muffled voice.

Derek let himself in. Stiles was in the bed, a veritable burrito of bedclothes and comforters. Empty Ben & Jerry’s containers and spoons lay scattered on the floor.

“I said—” Stiles rolled over and stopped. His face contorted. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I came to apologize,” Derek said. He held out the flowers and chocolates.

“Apologize for what?” Stiles grabbed the chocolates, opened the box and stuffed two in his mouth.

Derek looked at his hands. “I thought you were straight,” he said.

“Just because I play sports, you think I’m straight?” Stiles shook his head. “So you came to apologize because you’re anti-jock?”

“No. I came to apologize because…because I didn’t realize what I was asking of you when I pitched the idea of being fake boyfriends.”

Stiles was just looking at him, his face open.

“It was selfish of me,” Derek said. “I’ve wanted you for months, and I thought this way I could at least pretend to have you. I’m really, truly sorry.”

“Well, I win, then, because I’ve wanted you for a lot longer than that.”

“I know that now,” Derek said.

“What about when I came right out and said it at your family’s house?”

“I, uh, just thought you were an excellent liar.”

Stiles shook his head. “We agreed to only say the absolute truth to your family,” he said. “Presumably because otherwise they would hear the lie with their freaky werewolf ears.”

“Basically, yes.”

“So. You’ve apologized. Was that all you wanted to do, or—“

“No. I came to ask if you’ll take me back.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “I’m not interested in _prolonging_ our fake relationship,” he said.

“Then will you take me back for real? No more fake boyfriends. Real boyfriends, with real dates that happen outside of our apartment. _Actual wooing._ ”

“Hmm,” Stiles said. “I could go for some wooing.” He ate another chocolate. “You haven’t made that bad of a start.”

Derek swallowed. “Can I kiss you?”

“No,” Stiles said.

Derek’s stomach sank.

“I’ve been wallowing,” Stiles continued. “I stink and I need a shower. But you can take me out on a date as soon as I’ve had a shower and brushed my teeth. And then—if everything goes well—I _might_ agree to let me kiss me before you drop me off here again.”

“You mean—you aren’t moving back in?”

Stiles laughed. “Of course I’m moving back in. I can’t impose on Scott and Allison much longer, after all, and I’m tired of having to wear pants at home.” He took Derek’s hand. “And I miss you.”

“I missed you, too,” Derek said.


End file.
